Mother's Day and Father's Day
by forever fan
Summary: Mother's Day to Father's Day vignette. Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the other stories.


Title: Mother's Day and Father's Day

Author: Forever Fan

Rating: T

Spoilers: Nanny Will Do; Spring, Sweet Spring

Category: Family; romance

Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television.

I make no profit and intend no infringement.

Summary: Mother's Day to Father's Day vignette. Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the other stories.

Feedback: Yes, please

Three red roses bobbled in their vase and the vase wobbled on the tray.

"Be careful, Hal," Prudence whispered loudly. "Don't drop the tray."

Under his breath Hal answered his little sister, "I won't drop it." He then continued irritably, "Tell Butch to hurry up – he's the one who might drop something."

"That's 'cause I have the heaviest thing," Butch complained over his shoulder. Not bothering to whisper he asked, "How come I got the box?"

"Because you would drop the tray," his brother told him as they reached the second floor. "And keep your voice down. Do you want to wake up Mom and Dad?"

Gesturing with a jerk of his chin, Butch forced his voice lower. "I thought that's why we were doing all this. We gotta wake them up to give Mom her breakfast in bed."

"But you don't want her to have to get out of bed to see what all the noise is about," Hal told him.

"I'll get the door," Prudence said, hand on the doorknob.

"No!" Her eldest brother said quickly. "Don't you remember? Dad said to always knock first."

"But if we knock first we'll wake them up." The girl's face fell. "And I wanted to wake Mommy with breakfast in bed. It won't be the same if she's already awake and I wanted everything to be perfect.

For a moment Hal was afraid Prudence was going to cry. "That o.k.," he reassured her, "just knock first."

"But Prudence is right," Butch was shifting the heavy pink package in his arms and using his knee to balance its weight. "She won't be surprised when we shout "Happy Mother's Day" if she's already awake."

"She'll be surprised," Hal rolled his eyes at his younger siblings, "and if we keep making noise we'll wake her up anyway. Prudence, just knock on the door."

The little girl nodded and timidly tapped at the door.

"Come in, children." They heard their mother call from inside. She sounded cheerful and wide awake.

Prudence threw open the door and led the way into the room shouting: "Happy Mother's Day" in chorus with her brothers and accompanied by Waldo's barking.

Phoebe was sitting up in bed propped against plump pillows. Her hair looked neatly brushed and her smile was bright and welcoming. The widow blinds were raised and the room was filled with clear, spring sunshine. Next to her, her husband leaned against his rumbled pillows looking sleepy and tousled but grinning.

The blond girl bounced up onto the bed and gave her mother a big hug and a loud kiss on the cheek. She clung to Phoebe's neck and said, "Happy First Mother's Day!" She made certain to emphasize the word "first".

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Phoebe kissed Prudence's soft cheek and smiled again at each of the children. Her eyes held the bright sparkle of tears, but she didn't think anyone noticed but her husband. He winked at her and smiled gently. Then he reached for his daughter.

"I know it's Mom's day," he said, "but doesn't Dad get a "Good Morning" kiss, too?"

As Prudence turned to hug and kiss her father, the boys took their turns kissing their mother in greeting. Then young Hal set the full breakfast tray over her lap while Butch placed the brightly wrapped box at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, my goodness," Phoebe exclaimed. "I don't know whether to dig into this marvelous breakfast or to start opening that spectacular present."

Butch looked down and fiddled with the ribbons on the wide bow. "Aw," he said, "it's not such a big deal."

"It is a very "big deal", Butch," his mother said. "This is my very first Mother's Day, isn't it? I can't imagine anything more special than that. And because of that, whatever is in that box must be very, very special too."

Butch then met her eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right – it is."

"But eat your breakfast first Mom, before it gets cold." Of course her oldest stepson would be the most practical.

Phoebe lifted the warmer off the plate to reveal heart shaped pancakes. "This is wonderful," she breathed. "Who made…"

"We all sort of made it together," the tall boy explained.

"You mainly supervised," his brother complained.

"And I did most of the cleaning up," Prudence informed her parents from her place nestled between them on the bed.

"Well," her father said, "cleaning up and supervising are very important parts of the job – but Butch – are you telling us that you did most of the cooking?"

"I guess I did," the boy said thoughtfully, "except Hal insisted on making the coffee."

"And you brought me a cup." Their father reached for the second cup on the tray and gestured his thanks. "That was very thoughtful of you kids."

"But your breakfast is downstairs, Daddy," Prudence explained. "You don't get breakfast in bed until "Father's Day."

"Oh, well I'll look forward to it." Sipping his coffee, he met his wife's amused glance.

"Everything is just delicious, children," Phoebe said. She lifted a spoonful of grapefruit to her lips. "And you prepared all of my favorites."

"We wanted you to have everything you liked," her daughter said, "we even found some of that marmalade you like." She pointed to the breakfast tray. "And I picked the roses –

one for each of us kids."

"I see that, Darling. They are very beautiful and very, very special."

"'And she was fair as is the rose in May'," Hal quoted then leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek.

"Chaucer," she said, smiling at him.

"Just because you married a scientist doesn't mean you have to do without sentiment. I'm not completely ignorant of the finer things," he told her, "and I thought you deserved a little poetry on your first Mother's Day,"

"This is my first Mother's Day too, Mommy," Prudence said quietly. "I don't remember any of the others with my mother."

Phoebe's breath caught. She didn't quite know what to say, so she brought the child closer and hugged her tightly. "Then it is an extra special day for both of us." She kissed the top of the girl's head and raised her gaze to meet her husband's. Hal smiled and reached his arm around both of the women in his life.

Butch broke the quiet moment. "Don't you want to see what's in the box, Mom?"

"I certainly do," she replied. Her teenaged son removed the tray from her lap and the middle boy pushed the large package to her.

"Whatever can it be?" Phoebe looked at each of the children with wide, blue eyes. She began removing the white and pink ribbons that tied the big, pink package together. After undoing the knot, she lifted off the top of the box. Inside she found three baby blankets: two were soft blue and one was pale pink. Removing them, she saw three pair of bronze baby shoes, tiny knit baby booties and small infant bonnets and clothing. Everything was carefully packed in tissue paper and lovingly preserved. A sweet floral fragrance and the scent of talc lingered in the air.

"These are things our mother saved from our childhood, our baby things," young Hal explained. "They've been in our attic since we were small. We figured now that you are our mother – you'd want these things."

"You missed our being babies," Butch said, "So we thought maybe you'd like to have our stuff. See?" He reached into the box and pulled out three photo albums. "There are lots of pictures in here of each of us doing stuff babies do."

As Butch opened his album, Prudence pointed out, "There's a lock of his baby hair…and his bracelet from the hospital…there's stuff like that in all of our books."

"Bentley Robert Everett," Phoebe read, "June 16, 1962, 8 pounds, 4 ounces, 19 inches long…" Her voice began to falter and her tears blurred the words on the page.

"It even says what our first words were and when we took our first steps," the teen was reading from his baby book. "I didn't know I was walking at nine months."

"I'd almost forgotten that," his father said softly, remembering.

"Do you like your present, Mommy?" Prudence asked.

"Oh, Darling," Phoebe hugged her tightly then reached up to kiss both boys on the cheek. "I think this is the most precious gift I have ever been given." She looked at each of them and didn't attempt to hide her tears. "You are giving me your babyhood…what mother could want more?"

"Just because we're not your legal kids yet," young Hal said, "doesn't mean we don't think of you as our real Mother."

"Oh, I have a "Mother's Day" present for Mom too," Hal said, smiling at his wife. He reached into his bedside table and handed her an envelope. "This is the last stage of the filed paperwork for the legal adoption of Harold Jr., Bentley and Prudence Everett by Phoebe Figalilly Everett. The final papers may take another six to nine months, but these kids will be legally yours soon." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Gee, it would take that long to have a baby anyway." Butch shrugged. "It doesn't matter, Mom. You are our Mom and we don't need any papers to tell us that."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Phoebe kissed the boy on the cheek again. He blushed.

"Aw, Mom," he whined, but smiled anyway.

"O.K. kids," Hal motioned for them to leave the room. "We need to get started if we're going to get to church on time. Take that tray down to the kitchen and get yourselves ready. And don't forget to close that door." As the children filed out they each kissed their mother once more with a "Happy Mother's Day" on their lips. Waldo barked happily and trailed the children out of the room.

"Did you know what they were planning?" Phoebe asked Hal when they were alone.

"I didn't even know what I was planning for Mother's Day," he confessed shaking his head. Pulling her into an embrace he asked, "Were you surprised?"

"Completely," she told him. Fingering the satin finish on Prudence's baby book, she smiled and her eyes filled with tears once more. "Your children are absolutely wonderful, Hal."

"Our children," he corrected and this time he captured her lips in a tender kiss.

XXXXXXXXX

As Phoebe finished dressing for church, she thought about her children. When she had first met them, she had told Hal that they were "a bit spoiled, a bit hostile" but also remarked that they were "wonderful, alive people." And they certainly were: Hal with his inquisitive, searching mind, Butch with his gift for mischief, Prudence with her quest for her place among two brothers. And the time she had spent loving and nurturing those three had shaped, at least in part, their developing personalities. She could see a sensitive side emerging in Hal: it had been his idea to give her their baby things for her first Mother's Day. And Butch was becoming more nurturing: he had made the breakfast. And Prudence…

The three red roses that had adorned her breakfast tray were on her bedside table and caught her eye. She smiled and picked up the flowers to inhale their soft fragrance. She suddenly noticed a small pink rose bud nestled amongst the full red blossoms. Was the bud there earlier? Inspired, Phoebe sat in her rocker and reached for her sewing basket, cutting the flowers and the bud and wrapping them onto a piece of cream colored lace. With a bit of pink ribbon she fashioned herself a lovely mother's corsage of red and pink that looked wonderful pinned on her pale pink dress.

There was a knock at the door. At Phoebe's acknowledgement, Prudence opened the door and stuck her head in.

"Mommy? Daddy said to hurry or we'll be late." The little girl saw the corsage on her mother's dress and smiled.

"Oh, Mommy, how pretty you made the flowers look!" She reached out to touch the flowers and lace and remarked. "And you found the pink rose bud."

"You put the rose bud in the vase, Prudence?" Phoebe asked. At the girl's nod, she continued, "Why?"

The child's answer was to look at her mother shyly then to run scampering from the room.

Phoebe smiled after her. After her years of love and nurturing, it appeared her influence on Prudence had made the girl much, much more intuitive.

XXXXXXXXX

The low lamp on the bedside table was still lit. Hal closed the door quietly and clicked the door lock automatically. Smiling at the petite figure curled under the covers, he kicked off his shoes and crawled across his side of the bed to lean over his sleeping wife.

"Hmmm," Phoebe hummed when the kiss on her cheek woke her. "I tried to stay awake but I…"

"I'm sorry I woke you. The kids got us up pretty early for my traditional Father's Day breakfast in bed. And you need all the rest you can get." Lying next to her, he pressed his chest to her back and slipped his arm around her. Reaching for her hand he laced their fingers together to rest on her belly. "You both need all of the rest you can get."

Under their clasped hands they could both feel a slight flutter. "She must have heard you." Phoebe said. "I think she's awake."

"She?" Hal turned his head to look at her with raised eyebrows. His wife answered him with a smile and twinkling eyes.

"Or he."

"Ah." Leaning closer he kissed her lips lightly. Moving their hands together in a slow circle on the slight swell of her abdomen he felt a second small movement and murmured. "Well, whoever she or he is – they're quite active already."

"Like Daddy." Phoebe shifted to lie on her back next to him.

"Well, Mommy keeps up." Hal kissed her again with a more lingering and affectionate kiss this time. Then he pulled back to look at the woman he still thought of as his bride.

His bright blue gaze admired her changing curves.

"And Mommy is a growing girl. I like it."

"You did have something to do with that, you know." Phoebe reached up into his thick black hair and ruffled it playfully.

"I'm very proud of that," he pressed a soft kiss on her throat.

"You didn't do it alone," she tried to quip but her breath caught at the warm touch of his lips.

More kisses along her collarbone and he whispered, "I'm well aware of that too, my little wench."

She giggled when his breath tickled her neck and he nipped gently at her earlobe. "Did you have a happy Father's Day?"

"I'm still having a happy Father's Day." His hands began to slide over the thin silk of her nightgown and she sighed.

"Did you like your presents?" Phoebe asked him breathlessly.

Hal moved to kiss the side of her neck. "Hmmm…I'm still enjoying my favorite present." Then he raised his head to look into her eyes. "You know, Butch is becoming quite the junior chef - those waffles he made were delicious and he finally got the coffee just right. Hal's reframing all of my diplomas was a very thoughtful and generous gift and Prudence's creative decorations went along beautifully with your surprise…"

"Are you happy?"

"About the baby?" When she nodded he replied, "I couldn't be happier. I just don't know why you waited so long to tell me since you've known since before Mother's Day."

"I wanted it to be your Father's Day present." Her expression was both shy and pleased.

Hal shook his head. "You do keep me guessing." Then he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. "You made me feel as if I'm going to be a father for the first time. All of those things to look forward to with a new baby…"

"And this time I'll have remembrances of all of those things to place with the other children's…" Sudden tears sparkled in Phoebe's eyes.

"I'd forgotten how those pregnancy hormones affect women and just how whimsical you can be." He smiled tenderly down into her flushed face and brushed back a few stray tears from her cheeks. Stroking her hair he fingered some tousled blond strands. "I should have noticed the changes in you. Your hair is longer and fuller. Pretty soon you'll be lounging around like Lady Godiva – only in our bedroom, of course."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Phoebe's sentimental tears were gone and the lazy smile she gave him was seductive.

"Yes," Hal answered honestly. "You do bring out the natural savage hedonist in me. And coming home to you just wearing that smile…" He traced her lips with one finger and leaned in for a kiss.

She stopped him by tugging gently at his hair. "You know, you are looking rather like a hedonist with your shaggy hair…"

He frowned. "The semester is over. I'll be home all summer doing research and watching you and our baby grow." Then Hal smiled as his wife began unbuttoning his shirt. "I can let my hair get as long as yours – maybe I'll even grow a beard."

Stroking his chin, Phoebe looked pensive. "By morning you'll have a terribly scratchy chin and my skin…"

"It will grow out pretty soft in less than a week."

She considered his statement and studied him. "I like your handsome face clean-shaved."

"But with a beard I can be your beast man," Hal growled as he moved over her, "your savage lover."

He kissed her deeply and groaned when she kissed him back with growing hunger. Phoebe pulled at his shirt, slipping her hand inside to caress his chest with a practiced touch. The light scratches on his skin from her impatience made him shiver with desire. Pulling back slightly he looked into her glittering eyes.

"Beneath my kind, gentle, considerate and loving husband – you are always my savage beast man – my consummate lover." Her voice was soft and low.

"But you want me to cut my hair," Hal joked while toying with the ribbon on the front of her nightgown. "Are you my Delilah?"

Slipping her arms around him, Phoebe held him close. "You seem very strong, still."

"You are my strength," Hal whispered and kissed her again. While exploring her mouth his hands caressed the swell of her belly and again felt the small fluttering movement. His lips curved against hers.

"She knows her Daddy's voice – her Daddy's touch," Phoebe's smile answered his.

"Is she like you?" He sounded alarmed. "Do you think she knows…?"

"She knows I'm happy. She can feel the changes in me when you touch me – my rapid heartbeat and quick breath and the joy that moves through me…"

"Biochemistry." Her husband's gaze was amused.

"How romantic." Phoebe's tone reproached him but her dark blue eyes were smiling.

Hal's long fingers stroked her belly in intricate patterns. "You'll never make a poet of me, my love," he told her affectionately.

"I believe there is a bit of a poet in every great scientist."

Gazing at her moist, parted lips and the warm spark of craving in her eyes, he was entranced by the beautiful vision she made. Lying against plump pillows, her halo of light hair seemed to gleam and her pink cheeks were glowing. Phoebe was the perfect picture of a happy and well-loved woman radiant with the new life within her. How joyous to know he would soon have a new son or daughter. What more wonderful Father's Day gift than the discovery of the child they had made together? When had that wonderful moment of creation been? What magical night? How had this new life come to be? How can love, desire, and one simple act generate a life from two such very different people? And who would that child turn out to be? What miracle combination of pragmatism and mysticism?

"You may be right," he said thoughtfully, "you make me a poet, too."

"'If the rose puzzled its mind over the question how it grew, it would not have been the miracle that it is'," Phoebe quoted.

Hal smiled again and his deep voice was content. "We should just enjoy our miracle?"

"That's what Yeats would advise."

"Another rose in our garden." Holding her close, he continued. "You know, Butch was right; by the time your adoption of the kids comes through, the baby will be here."

"Perfect timing." Phoebe's musical voice was confident. "All things will work out for the best and our family will be complete."

"No more "Mother's Day" or "Father's Day" surprises after this one?" Hal asked as he

touched her soft cheek with a gentle finger. He still couldn't quite believe his wife had that answer for sure, but he couldn't resist wanting to know.

She smiled a slow and enigmatic smile, but her eyes held inviting promise.


End file.
